You see we have been striving for generations to feel ode,Scoop down,Kneel down,Pick up,And gather,The teachings,

But this means in feeling ode we feel the hurt,Magnified sorrow by oppressive forces,Hands on the curb,Pieces of the cement glued to our hands as we rise,We must brush this off,The train speeds by,The street light flickers,The curb is a metaphor for being sidelined,Unseen,Invisible,We must continue on,Only to end up laying on the floor for 14 hours,Unable to move,Our tears too much,To breathe,Yet to rise,Rise,Rise,Recover,

Can you feel the heart of everything?Do you remember the carpet?The white walls?The smell?Rise,Rise,Recover,

There were times we couldn't breath,The dominant culture decided our identity for us,To withstand a lifetime of racism,To stand up and rise,To speak out against racism,To speak for others who can't speak,To speak for others who are afraid,To speak for the ancestors who were silenced,To speak for the ones who are on their way,

Zaagidewin,Opening ode,

Gwekwaadeziwin,With ourselves,

Aakidehewin,To feel ode,

Mnaadendmowin,For ourselves,

Dbaadendiziwin,In the circle,

Debwewin,Speak it from ode,

Nbwaakaawin,Always in the circle,

Gently feet dance on the Earth,Prayers for recovery,Tears for recovery,Hot summer sun,Smiling,Laughing,This joy is ours,We are strong,We are strengthening who we are,